Everyone Off the Sidewalk
by Star-of-Chaos
Summary: Remy learns why Pyro shouldn't be allowed to drive. (Can be read alone, or as a missing scene from Starting Today).


AN: I think you can guess by now that I don't own the X-Men. This could technically be a stand-alone story, but it is actually based on a conversation between Gambit and Pyro in chapter 23 of "Starting Today", and takes place before the story began.

0-o-o-o-0

It seemed like a perfectly harmless idea at first. Remy had a raging hangover that morning, courtesy of trying to beat Piotr at vodka shots the night before. Note to self: never, _never_ try to outdrink a Russian. Especially a big one. He woke up with the type of headache that wasn't _quite_ bad enough to make a strong man swear off drinking, but it was bad enough for him to at least consider it for a while. What made it worse was that when he staggered into the kitchen to conjure up some of his Tante Mattie's traditional hangover remedy, he was lacking half the ingredients.

He needed to go to the store, but while he wasn't drunk anymore he certainly was in no shape to drive. Piotr was nowhere to be seen, so Remy figured he must be still sleeping it off (even large metallic Russians had their limits), and he'd rather just go ahead and shoot himself than ask Sabretooth for a favor; not that Creed was likely to grant him one.

Thankfully John was at the table in the base kitchen, eating cereal and watching cartoons, as was his normal morning habit. What Remy thought was the bright light of a good idea popped into his mind (although later he decided it had to be the devil) and he went over to his teammate.

" _Bonjour, mon ami."_ Remy said quietly, trying not to aggravate the bongo drums currently playing a solo in his brain.

"G'day! Yo, you and Petey really knocked 'em back last night!" Pyro laughed.

Remy winced as the sound of the other man's voice set off a chorus of new drums in his mind. _Too loud, too loud!_ Although to be fair to Pyro, anything louder than a whisper was too much right now. _Merde, why didn't I stay in bed?_

" _Oui,_ I'm thinkin' that may not have been the best idea." Remy muttered. He looked around the kitchen but there was no coffee made. Another reason why he should have just stayed in bed.

"Heh, got a hangover, eh? Well I'm not surprised." Despite not being surprised, Pyro didn't bother lowering his voice, but whether it was from malice or obliviousness to his teammate's pain Remy didn't know. Probably a bit of both. John was generally okay, but it was understood among the Acolytes that he wasn't the most stable guy around. It was for this reason that Remy really should have known better than to do what he was about to do next, but well, desperate times…

"Yeah. Could you do me a favor, give me a lift to the store to pick up a few things? Need to make somethin' to get this headache to go away." Remy asked. He'd rather not owe John a favor; god only knew what the man would ask for, but it wasn't like there was a 7-11 right around the corner or anything. The last thing on Magneto's mind when setting up the Acolyte base was the convenience of his men the morning after a drunken binge.

John shrugged, his mouth full of cereal. "Sure, lemme finish my breakfast here first."

" _Merci._ " Remy mumbled, collapsing into one of the chairs around the kitchen table. Then a thought rose up through the sludge of his alcohol-soaked mind. "You do know how to drive in this country, right?"

He didn't bother asking John if he had a license. Since he'd commissioned the IDs when both John and Piotr came to the States, he knew perfectly well that both documents were fake. _Good_ fakes, thanks to his connections with the Thieves Guild back home, but still fake.

"Oh yeah, no problem mate. Just like driving back home, 'cept on the wrong side of the road."

If Remy wasn't hung over he'd argue that it was John and his fellow Aussies who were driving on the side, but it was just too early in the morning for that. Okay, so he didn't actually know _what_ time it was, but it was still too early.

" _Bon._ " More of an acknowledgement than anything else.

0-o-o-o-0

About twenty minutes later, Remy had almost completely forgotten his headache. Pure abject terror will do that to a person.

"COOYON! YOU'RE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD!" Remy yelled as John sped through town. Horns blared as the cars coming at them swerved out of the way. They'd already gone through two stop signs, and Remy was just thankful that Magneto didn't own a convertible.

Either John couldn't hear him over the blaring of the radio, or he was ignoring him, because he didn't change lanes; he just laughed and kept going.

"It's a great day for a drive, ain't it Rems?" he cackled. "Some nice fresh air's just the thing you need for a headache!"

The main reason they were getting fresh air was because the second stop sign drove a hole in the windshield on its way through the car. Remy didn't bother bringing this up though as he was more concerned about the…

"LOOK OUT!" he yelped, just before stop sign number three became a victim to the terrorist behind the wheel.

"If you're not gonna stay on the right side of the road, can you at least stay in the damn lane?"

"Ah come on, where's your sense of adventure?!"

"I think I left it in one of Piotr's vodka bottles."

The poor US postal worker who was out on his rounds that morning probably wasn't expecting to get front-ended by two guys hurtling down the wrong side of the road, but he wouldn't have any time to think about, and Remy didn't have any time to spare any sympathy for the man. John took the corner so fast that if it weren't for the seat belt Remy would have ended up in the driver's seat, and the next thing he knew there was the mail truck, way too close to avoid. He covered his eyes just before the collision, and the only thing that kept the sound and jolt of the crash from bringing his headache back was the adrenaline whipping through his system.

At least they'd now come to a stop.

Remy didn't open his eyes, not wanting to see what had happened.

"Remy you dead?" Came a mutter from the driver's seat.

"No, but you gonna be in a minute."

"Noooo….you're supposed to say 'ya mon'." John groaned. "Didn't you see 'Cool Runnings'?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

It took a few minutes of grumbling, griping and swearing, but they eventually managed to get themselves out of the car. Both the mail truck and Magneto's Audi were now flat nosed, squished up against each other like a couple of drunks passed out after a fight. There was a man slumped over in the driver's seat of the mail truck, and Remy stumbled over to see if he was okay. At first there was no response when he tried to rouse him, but finally there was a moan and a twitch, which meant the guy was still alive.

Remy sighed in relief. He didn't see any blood, but that didn't mean there wasn't a concussion or anything like that.

"Hey Remy, think we should call 911?"

"You kidding? You know they can trace those calls, right? No, we gettin' out of here." Remy shook his head and started walking.

"So we gonna walk back to the base?" John asked, catching up with him.

"What's this 'we' business? You got us into this, you can walk. I'm findin' myself my own ride back. And you crazy if you think I'm lettin' you drive again."

"It's you damn Yanks fault. Your roads are all wrong. And if you think you're getting outta that favor you owe me, forget it. My birthday's coming up soon…"

Whatever John was going to say, Remy didn't get to hear, because he started running when the first card exploded near his behind.

*BANG*

"Remy!"

*BANG*

"OW! Watch whatcha you doin' mate!"

*BANG*

"HEY!"

*BANG*

~ _Fin~_

0-o-o-o-0

And yes, this could also be considered a prequel to "Three Acolytes walk into a bar".


End file.
